


1812

by Aegwynnn (Ogawdy)



Series: The Great Comet of 1812 [1]
Category: Warcraft (2016), Warcraft - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - 19th Century, Alternate Universe - Earth, F/M, M/M, Past Khadgar/guldan (dubcon), inspired by The Great Comet (musical), past Medivh/Khadgar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-09-27 22:06:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17170274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ogawdy/pseuds/Aegwynnn
Summary: A "Natasha, Pierre & the Great Comet of 1812" AU.Moscow, 1812. Khadgar has tried to take his own life after being tricked by Guldan and losing he who he thinks is the love of his life: Medivh. He receives a visit from a friend, count Anduin Lothar, who tries to bring his soul back to life. As a comet crosses Moscow's sky, a new chapter in both Khadgar and Anduin's lives is about to be begin, whether they are aware of it or not.One-shot.





	1812

**Author's Note:**

> Obviously, I took a lot of liberties writing this, and it was a lot of fun. Just imagine if homosexual relationships had been as common as heterosexual ones in 19th century Russia, and this is basically what War & Peace would have been like. Hope you'll enjoy this short story.
> 
> If you want to:  
> Songs: https://youtu.be/wpl_zBrPH6Q?t=7047  
> Scene from the 2016 series War and Peace: https://ww5.gowatchseries.co/war-and-peace-season-1-jds-episode-5 (at 03:38)  
> Same scene from the 1966 Russian movie: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GQmo-bL-9rc

* * *

**Moscow, winter 1812**

Khadgar was standing in the middle of the drawing room with a pale yet steady face. Anduin observed him without saying a word, taking in the dark bags under his eyes, the tear-streaked cheeks, the bloodshot eyes. He looked like the ghost of the boy he had once known. A surge of anger filled him at the thought that his good friend, Medivh was responsible for this. Then, a bitter sharp remorse overcame him. Medivh had been at war, fighting for the freedom of their country, while others, like him, enjoyed a life of debauchery and lust in the safe haven of Moscow. He had no right to be angry at him. Instead, he knew who was really to blame: Guldan, the rich, spoilt kid whose sister was also his wife. He had ensnared Khadgar, tempted him with empty promises and then crushed his heart and his future at once, leaving the young man as a pale copy of himself.

Anduin had heard that Khadgar had tried to take his own life. He had heard what had happened first hand from Khadgar's godfather. He had been to see Medivh and tried to talk him into forgiving... And yet, in the past few days, he had not seen Khadgar himself. The ways he had been described to him, by Antonidas first, and then the vile words that Medivh had uttered in regard to his former fiancé, had painted a picture of Khadgar in stark contrast to how he remembered him. Khadgar, to Anduin, represented everything that had been stolen from him at birth: freedom, jollity, insouciance. Now all the joy seemed to have been drained out of him. The boy that had once danced carelessly around a campfire no longer existed in that dead gaze. The one that sang and twirled and pushed him at the centre of the room to share a dance with him, despite his obvious discomfort, no longer shone through this ashen skin.

"Khadgar," he greeted softly.

The boy's head snapped upwards. The hint of recognition brought a sparkle back to his eyes, and he blushed, the red somehow making him look even sicker. It was gone in an instant, however, and it seemed like death held him tightly in its grasp. Anduin knew, because he had been told, that the doctors had been called to his side as quickly as possible and that all traces of the poison Khadgar had ingested were gone. He would survive, but seeing him now, it was hard to believe. It seemed like a different kind of poison was slowly spreading through his veins.

"Count Lothar." 

Khadgar bowed his head politely, his voice monotonous. His gaze avoided Anduin's. It broke his heart.

"No," Anduin took a step forward, "please call me Anduin."

A shiver shook Khadgar's frame. He raised his head and stared at Anduin with a cold hard expression set on his face. He was daring him to take another step. In this fierce gesture, Anduin recognized some of the spirit that had once characterized the young man. But even as his gaze hardened, Anduin could see him stagger, his body ready to crumble. He flickered like a flame and immediately Anduin was by his side, arms outstretched to keep him from tumbling down. Khadgar's breath hitched and he stared numbly at Anduin. He looked surprised at his readiness to help him. For a few still seconds, he looked like he would accept Anduin's touch and grab his hands for support. But instead, he breathed in deeply and exhaled shakily. He turned away and he let his hands fall to his side, lifeless. Even as the rejection stung, Anduin felt grateful Khadgar could not see his face fall. He quickly regained his composure and was about to reach out to him once again, when Khadgar spoke.

"Prince Medivh was your friend," he stopped, and corrected himself: "He is your friend."

Despite his uncertainty, his tone indicated that it wasn't a question. And he was right: Medivh and Anduin's friendship was notorious. Anduin, the rich bastard, the beloved orphan; and Medivh, the prince, the valiant, the soldier. They were as different as day and night, lead and gold. Yet they had grown up together and to Anduin, Medivh was like a brother.

He remembered how overjoyed he had been when Medivh had told him of his engagement with Khadgar. He had had no idea the two of them had even ever met. The way Medivh told it, they had met when Medivh, on duty, had stopped at the Trusts' home near Saint Petersburg and he had been immediately stricken by the youth's joyful personality. Anduin could understand that, even as he had known Khadgar since birth. His grandfather and Khadgar's father had been very close, being the heads of two of the richest and most influential families in Russia. Nowadays, Khadgar's father had lost a significant part of the Trusts' wealth and Anduin's grandfather had died, leaving the entire Lothar estate and money to his bastard grandchild, his only descendant, his late daughter's son. It had been a shock to Russia's high society and especially to Anduin's aunt. Thankfully, even as his aunt went from hating him to despising the very thought of him, he had kept a very close and loving relationship with his cousin, Taria, who he considered a sister. Even though, Russia's wealthiest had made sure that Anduin would never forget who his father was, not that he knew his actual identity.

The Trust family, however, had never judged him for his mother's mistakes. They had accepted him as he was, young, awkward, fourteen years old. His grandfather had always held him dear because he was the last thing of his daughter that he had left. Anduin had feared his love, believing, like most of Russia's high society, that he didn't deserve it. But he had never doubted the Trusts' sincerity. They were distant cousins, but he was made to feel like a close family member. He was invited to every birthday, every anniversary, every simple family gathering. With the Trusts he knew love, and care, and faith in others. When his grandfather had died, and he had inherited the largest estate in Russia, the Trusts taught him how to care for it. He owed them everything. And so when Khadgar's godfather Antonidas had sent for him, telling him that the family was ruined, that _Khadgar_ was ruined, he had not hesitated to come to their aid.

He had gone to see his brother in law, Guldan, and sent him away to Petersburg. The encounter had enraged Anduin, who had had to stop himself from smashing his head in for his stupidity. Then, he had gone to see Medivh, and had found his friend in such a state of disappointed fury that no word from him could reach him. He was obviously hurt by Khadgar's actions - how he threw himself so willingly, or so he had been told, into Guldan's arms, how he had believed promises of love and marriage uttered by a lying rat, how he had broken his engagement with seemingly no remorse... Anduin himself had resented Khadgar when he had heard. He had reproached him in his heart and tried to despise him. Seeing him now, so weak and regretful, he could not help but feel pity for him. There was no more heart for reproach.

He resisted the urge to lay a hand on his shoulder, knowing it would not be welcome. He nodded sharply, inviting Khadgar to keep talking.

"He once told me that I should turn to you," Khadgar admitted. It was no surprise to Anduin - of course Medivh trusted him enough to tell his fiancé that. "If," Khadgar swallowed, "if anything were to happen and he was away."

His bottom lip trembled, and for a moment, Anduin thought he would start crying. But he controlled himself, staring blankly at the wall. 

"He is here now," he kept on. Anduin nodded, even if Khadgar wasn't looking at him. "I was informed of his return. I wanted to see him, but I don't know how it could be possible now."

There was so much unsaid but Anduin heard it all. Now that I've refused him, now that I've ruined myself, now that I've broken his heart and brought shame and outrage upon my family... Anduin trembled under the strain of keeping himself from reaching out and cutting Khadgar off. He did not deserve to blame himself so. Guldan was a vile, heartless man and Khadgar, so young, so innocent, had been defenceless. If anything, Anduin was more to blame, for he had watched it all unravel without even once deciding to interfere with his brother-in-law's plan to elope with a young man. He had not known the identity of the youth, but that did not make him any more shameless. He had failed to stop Guldan's scheme until it was too late.

"Will you tell him," Khadgar started, but stopped, unsure.

Anduin raised his head, trying to cross his gaze, trying to convey to him that he did not blame him, he didn't judge him, not anymore.

"Yes?" he enjoined.

Khadgar turned towards him, unshed tears shining in his dark brown eyes.

"Will you tell Medivh how sorry I am? Will you ask him to forgive me?"

Anduin's chest tightened. He had already, when he had gone to see his friend yesterday. Medivh had once told him that a fallen man should be forgiven - Medivh had retorted that he had never said that he could forgive. And indeed, Anduin had finally understood, Medivh could not forgive Khadgar. His regret must have showed on his face, because Khadgar's eyes widened in panic and he quickly added:

"No, I know that everything is over! But I feel tormented by all the pain that I have inflicted him. I regret it so much... Please, tell him that I want him to forgive me. For everything."

Anduin smiled tightly. He could see the young man was genuine. He was desperate for his former fiancé's forgiveness. Anduin could not, in good heart, kill what little hope still existed in the youth's heart.

"Yes," he told him, "I will do everything that you ask. I will tell him."

That simple promise seemed to reassure Khadgar, who let his shoulders relax. Anduin hated to bring forth more suffering, but he had to.

"But he gave me your letters."

Khadgar shut his eyes and scrunched them tightly. He was doing a valiant effort not to cry, even as Anduin wished he knew that he could weep without shame in front of him. With a sigh, Anduin got the letters out of his pockets, and he handed them to Khadgar. They were wound with a worn string, their corners torn, their pages yellowed. They had obviously been read many times. It was impossible not to imagine Medivh reading them again and again in the dead of night, a candle his only companion, while on the battlefield. It pulled at the strings of Anduin's heart, who remembered the overjoyed look that Medivh had held in the months after his engagement with Khadgar. He had loved him dearly and had been loved in return as passionately. He had deserved this love. Medivh's wife had died in childbirth many years ago and back then it had felt like he would never know joy again. Khadgar had been a flame, a bright sunrise in Medivh's darkened life, and the promise of something new. How wasteful to know that this love could not survive the time and distance brought by the war.

Khadgar gripped the letters and held them for a long moment in silence, staring at them. Then, softly, slowly, lovingly, he pressed them against his chest. He exhaled loudly and it was as if he had accepted the state of matters. He opened his jacket and hid them inside, patting his chest afterwards. The sound of crinkling paper resonated in the silent drawing room.

"Thank you," Khadgar told Anduin.

Anduin watched him closely, surveyed the dark bags under his eyes, all the signs of what he had attempted just a few days ago, the tightness around his lips even as he smiled softly now. Something bothered Anduin about everything that he had been told. Khadgar had been described as many a thing since the whole incident had become known. Vile, stupid, oblivious, a _whore_. Yet, the young man who stood in front of him right now was anything but. He was weakened, yes, but strong and resilient. He had made mistakes but he was regretful. He had loved, deeply, fiercely, fearlessly, and he had paid the price, and he accepted it. There was an immense sadness about him, it clung to his clothes and trailed after him when he moved. Yet the old sparkle of life that had made him burn so brightly in the past could still be visible and Anduin knew that, with time, it would flare again and engulf any and all grief that currently weighed on Khadgar's frail shoulders.

"I will tell him to forgive you," Anduin repeated, "but first, I would like to know one thing..."

Khadgar looked at him, equal parts curious and wary. Anduin hesitated before figuring he had to ask.

"Did you love that bad man?"

He didn't dare voice his name - he was still so full of rage towards his brother-in-law. Khadgar shook his head violently, and Anduin immediately felt relief wash over him, until Khadgar answered him.

"Don't call him bad," he protested.

Anduin gaped at him. He was at a loss. He could forgive him for having believed in Guldan's empty promises - could forgive him for breaking his engagement with Medivh if he thought it would be anything other than a happy marriage - but _love_...!

"I don't know," Khadgar said, deflating. "I don't know if I loved him. I don't know anything anymore," his voice broke and a sob broke free.

Anduin reached out and gripped his arm, intending to shout at him. But the look of anguish that twisted Khadgar's features stopped him. Instead, he pulled him into a tight embrace and he let him sob on his shoulder.

Eventually, Khadgar pulled away and bashfully wiped his tears. Anduin himself had become teary-eyed as he listened to the painful sobs wrenching themselves from Khadgar’s throat. He looked away, hoping that his glasses would hide the evidence of his own tears.

"I'm sorry. This was inconsiderate and rude of me to ask. We won't speak of it anymore, I promise."

Khadgar sniffed and turned to look at him once more. Now, there was only curiosity written all over his features, and no trace of his previous wariness. Curiosity, and a touch of confusion, which only grew as Anduin kept talking.

"But I beg of you to consider me your friend. Don't hide your tears," he said, grabbing Khadgar's hands in his own. "If you ever need help, or if you ever want to confide in someone... Not now," he quickly added, "but when everything has settled and your mind is clear again. Come to me. I will listen."

Khadgar was gaping at him, openly displaying his surprise. Yet suddenly, he withdrew, his hands slipping from in between Anduin's and falling to his sides, his face closing off.

"Don't speak to me like that," he said in a low voice. "I am not worth your kindness."

"Stop," Anduin growled. "How can you talk like this? You are young, you will find the will to live again, to love again. You have your whole life before you!"

Khadgar's sharp gaze bore into him, as if searching for something in his eyes. Perhaps he was hoping to see his own uncertainty reflected in Anduin's gaze, but he couldn't. Anduin believed in every word he had just said. Khadgar's life wasn't over - it had only just begun. His own life, however, had ended the moment he had accepted to marry Cally, even though she had been the woman he had desired for so long. Her father had arranged the wedding, and it had not been what either of them had wanted. Desired her, yes, but wanted to spend each day of the rest of his life with her? No, and neither had she wanted to spend her life by his side. They had tried loving each other, only to realize that they were stuck in a loveless marriage that could not satisfy either of them. It had broken Anduin, who had wanted to believe in happy endings, in the happily ever after that everyone spoke about. Of course, growing up, he had realized that most marriages were of convenience, a powerful union between two wealthy families instead of a loving relationship between two persons.

Cally, way less attached to appearances than he was, had quickly accepted her fate and had started many affairs, of which he had little knowledge but enough so that he knew she was well entertained. Anduin, however, had stayed desperately alone.

In speaking as he had to Khadgar, he had said what he wished someone would have told him that when he had been his age, and about to be married.

"My whole life," Khadgar repeated in a whisper. His eyes were glazed over as if he was suddenly overcome with the vision of his future days, stretching endlessly in front of him. "No," he said, "no, I know that all is over for me. I have disgraced myself and my family. I can never show my face in public again. I shall die, old, and alone, having never lived because I selfishly ended my life before it had even began."

Anduin felt his heart sink at those words. He had not realized how deeply perturbed by the recent events Khadgar was. What he had interpreted as the spark of life, the determined set of his mouth and the sharp gazes, were actually the surrender of a young man to a life devoid of any pleasure, of any excitement. He had buried himself days ago. He would indeed spend the rest of his days half-alive, denying himself the simplest pleasures, because he believed he deserved nothing more. That simply could not do.

"All over?" Anduin questioned, letting his indignation show, wild and loud. "No, you mustn't think that. Khadgar," he grabbed the man's shoulder, forcing him to look at him. Khadgar looked vaguely scared, but Anduin kept on, speaking with a passion he himself had thought lost forever: "So you will not marry Medivh - others will come! And you will know not to promise anything too hastily, because you will have learned. This is just one step on the journey that is your life, and you are only at the start of it. Don't throw it all away because Medivh in the end is not the man with whom you will spend the rest of your life, as you once thought. Right now, you are hurting, but tomorrow you will smile. This too shall pass. Listen to me, Khadgar. You are a kind, young, handsome man and anyone would be lucky to have you." 

Anduin stopped to catch his breath. Khadgar was staring at him with his mouth agape, eyes blown wide. Fear and amazement battled for dominance on his features. Anduin knew his words were affecting him deeply, and he was glad. For a moment, he had thought no one and nothing would be able to reach inside this young soul and wrench it free from the grasps of despair it had surrounded itself with. Yet, now he knew what he was looking for, he could see it: a spark of the old flame, however small and weak, still shone inside those eyes. In this moment, Anduin knew that he would stop at nothing to rekindle that fire and see it blaze.

"In fact," he kept on, and his voice seemed so loud in the quiet room even as it was nothing more than a rough whisper, "in fact if I was anyone but myself, if I were the brightest, the most handsome, the best of men, and if I were free," he said, his voice trembling, "I would get down on my knees this minute. And I would ask for your hand!" His hold on Khadgar's hands tightened as he realized how sincere his words were. He hoped against all hopes that Khadgar realized this too. "And for your love," he whispered.

Khadgar's gaze bore into him, intent and ablaze with something Anduin could not immediately comprehend. Realizing suddenly the position in which they were standing, and the words that had just escaped his lips, Anduin lowered his gaze bashfully. He braced himself for the inevitable rejection. What had he been thinking? He knew what he had meant - he wasn't the most handsome, nor the most intelligent, and certainly not the best of men, and so he would never dare to think he so much as deserved for Khadgar to look twice as him. He still remembered what he had told Medivh back when he had first broken the news of his engagement to him - Khadgar was a treasure, one of a kind. He had seen him grow from a kind child to a buoyant teen to a beautiful adult. But it mattered not what he thought. Oh, how rude he must have sounded, him, a married man, uttering such a confession to a young broken-hearted boy.

"I'm sorry," he muttered.

"Thank you," Khadgar said.

Anduin snapped his head up, staring at Khadgar, dumbstruck.

And Khadgar smiled. His eyes shone brightly with tears, and each one that fell traced a new wet line on his cheeks.

"Oh, Anduin," Khadgar said softly, "thank you."

Slowly he freed himself from Anduin's grasp, and instead placed his palms upon Anduin's hands, pressing lightly. The touch accompanied the words in a heartfelt gesture of gratitude. And then, he left.

Restraining tears of tenderness, Anduin threw his fur coat on his shoulders, unable to find the sleeves. He expected to feel cold as he stepped out of the Trusts mansion into the street. Snow was falling eerily all around him, and already the streets were covered in several inches. He heard his boots crunch on the frozen earth, felt the wet snowflakes melting on his skin, but he felt warm. He breathed in deeply, feeling the air fill his lungs with something new. 

“Where to?” he asked himself. “Where can I go now? Surely not to the club or to pay calls.” Mankind seemed so pitiful compared to this feeling of tenderness and love he experienced - compared to that softened, grateful, last glance Khadgar had given him through his tears.

He got into his sleigh, and ordered his driver to bring him home. He sat on the bench and stared at the sky, the wide, starry sky which opened in front of him, endless, limitless. There, above Moscow, shone the brightest star that he had ever seen. 

The comet, said to portend untold horrors and the end of world, traced its slow arc on the black canvas of the night sky, falling onto the earth like an arrow and it pierced right through Anduin's heart. He felt as if this comet represented everything that he was feeling right now. He felt no fear - he gazed joyfully. His heart and soul were full of a new light which had been ignited with a single touch: that of Khadgar's fingers as they had stroked Anduin's hands. He felt alive again, as if he had only been living life in half-consciousness until this very moment. They say you are asleep until you fall in love, and tonight, Anduin understood these words perfectly.

He gazed at the sky, and the great comet of 1812, and felt simultaneously as if his life had stopped, tittering over the edge of something grand, and as if he had plunged head first into a wild coursing river. It seemed to him that this comet, passing at inexpressible speed through immeasurable space, felt him, felt his softened and uplifted soul, and his newly melted heart now blossoming into a new life.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you've enjoyed this unusual crossover. You may have noticed it is part of a series - perhaps one day I will rewrite the other songs with Liontrust ;)  
> I wish you a merry Christmas and a happy new year, trustees!


End file.
